


Drown Me

by sharkle



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-16
Updated: 2011-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkle/pseuds/sharkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think Evans'll go out with you just because you helped win the first Quidditch match of the season?"</p><p>"No! I just... have a good feeling about today."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drown Me

Sirius fell into a seat at the Gryffindor table and slammed his head down onto it.

"My head hurts," he mumbled.

Remus, scanning the Prophet, raised an eyebrow. Although he couldn't see, Sirius added, "Shut up," like he'd guessed the reaction anyway.

"My head hurts!" he moaned again, louder.

"No shit," snorted Peter, plopping down next to Remus. "You drank half the firewhiskey by yourself last night, not to mention whatever James got from Charlie Plex."

Sirius made a groaning sound in the back of his throat. "Don't we have any hangover potion left?" he said.

"We do now," said James, appearing suddenly and clutching a vial of thick-looking aqua blue liquid, "because your best mate was _nice enough_ " - raising his voice - "to make some more. Thanks would be much appreciated."

Still without lifting his head, Sirius snatched the vial out of James' hand, yanked out the stopper, and proceeded to attempt to lap the potion up like a dog.

"Merlin, Black," James said, rolling his eyes as Remus and Peter snickered; he pulled Sirius' head back by his hair so that the potion would tip into his mouth. "Just how drunk did you get last night?"

Sirius grimaced at the potion's taste. " _Very_ ," he said, once he'd swallowed. "It's O.W.L. year - I'm going to need it." Then he frowned. "Wait, did you just _touch_ my _hair_?"

"No. What are you talking about? Looks like the potion hasn't worked yet and you're still hungover."

In a flash, Sirius' wand was drawn, but before he could do more than open his mouth, James twisted his arm hard behind his back.

"I didn't hear a thank-you!" he taunted.

"Thanks _ever_ so much for the hangover potion, you're the best mate a bloke could ask for! You're so charming and funny and handsome and all the girls love you more than me, especially Evans! Uncle, uncle!"

"You're _ever_ so welcome, Padfoot." He grinned and released him.

Sirius rotated his shoulder, glaring at James, who was still standing. "Damn, for a scrawny bloke you're strong," he muttered.

"Aren't you eating breakfast?" Remus asked James. Beside him, Peter was already shoveling food into his mouth.

"Kind of," said James slowly; as he spoke he leaned across the table to pick a piece of toast off the top of a stack. When all three of his friends raised their eyebrows for elaboration, he explained, "I'm not that hungry. And... I had something I need to take care of."

"Like what?" said Remus. "Asking out Lily?"

"Well, let's just say it's a funny thing that Sirius mentioned Evans," James said, winking at them and biting into his toast.

"Did you know that eating standing up gives you gas?" said Peter randomly.

Sirius, Remus, and James stared at him.

Defensively: "What? It's true!"

Ignoring him, Sirius said to James, "You think Evans'll go out with you just because you helped win the first Quidditch match of the season?"

He swallowed. "No! I just... I have a good feeling about today."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Get your head out of the clouds, Prongs." Peter nodded and Remus cast him a look of sympathy.

"I don't know why I hang out with you gits," said James. He took another bite, raised his toast to them, and turned to walk out of the Great Hall. It was quite late in the morning, so it was nearly empty. By now, he guessed Lily would be outside, enjoying the brisk autumn day - it was her favorite season, after all. The way her hair shimmered to match the colors of the leaves and her green eyes made him struggle to breathe like he was drowning...

He sighed, leaned against the open oak doors, trying to spot her in the grounds (he'd had more than enough practice). After a few moments, he did: she was on her way back inside with a blonde - Marlene - away from the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

"What the hell, Evans?" James muttered under his breath; but he decided not to dwell on it. That was one of the best things about Lily: He could never completely figure her out. As soon as he learned one thing, it seemed like another piece of the puzzle went missing.

He _loved_ it.

But sometimes - sometimes, he wanted, more than anything else in the world, her to know just how much he actually thought about her. He supposed she liked to think she knew, the number of times she'd caught him staring, but that wasn't _it_. She was _always_ on his mind. He had dreams about her five nights out of the week. Often, he wondered whether he wasn't really in love and was just insane.

 _But didn't love make people insane?_

She was drawing nearer, close enough now for him to really see her facial features. James realized he still had the toast in his hand - he stuffed it into his mouth so that he nearly choked and began chewing at top speed. He was just brushing the crumbs off the corners of his mouth when she noticed him. Her pace immediately increased, and although it was too obvious that she tried to stop herself, her eyes flicked to his, just for a fraction of a second.

James' breath hitched in his chest; his heart rate tripled. He barely remembered he was supposed to speak to her, and by then she was almost completely past him. He swallowed the last bit of his breakfast, and, because his mind blanked on anything charming to say, called, "Go out with me, Evans?"

"You wish," she snorted, and continued walking without a second glance. Marlene threw a half-grimace at him over her shoulder, as if to apologize.

"Yeah," James said to himself, watching the back of Lily's retreating figure as disappointment sank into the pit of his stomach like a rock to the bottom of a river. "I wish."

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.


End file.
